


oh, connected dots

by mukemagic



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, OCD, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 10:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19293457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mukemagic/pseuds/mukemagic
Summary: shane is a logical man with irrational thoughts, one of which may or may not include his best friend ryan bergara(or the one where ryan finds out shane has ocd and how he's one of his attachments)





	oh, connected dots

**Author's Note:**

> before you read this, i want to stress that how OCD is depicted in this makes use of my own experiences. i completely understand it will not be entirely perfect to what you experience or know the condition to be. don't come for me. also i made myself laugh because abbreviating the title of this makes it "OCD" (it's the small things yanno)

_Tap. Tap._

It’s the crisp sound of boney knuckles pressing into the wooden surface of their shared desk. Ryan doesn’t need to look up from his notes to know it’s Shane. He’s used to the vibration below his forearms that announces his friend’s arrival every morning.

But he does turn away from his work, of course, to greet his pal with a smile.

Shane looks soft, always does at this hour of the day. Eyes still not quite adjusted to the brightness of the morning, squinting slightly behind the frames of his clear rimmed glasses. Collar of his shirt crooked where he’s thrown his thick cardigan on over.

Shane switches on his computer and as it boots up, he fumbles out of the woolly layer, placing it behind him on his chair.

Ryan’s still watching, Shane yet to say even a whispered hello when the taller man raises his left hand gently and then…

_Tap. Tap._

And okay. That’s different.

Shane’s a two tap kind of man.

That doesn’t make sense. Let Ryan explain.

You see, it began the first day Shane plonked all 6’4 of him down next to him all those years ago. And it’s happened every day since.

The Midwestern man would take to his seat and then it would follow two sharp sounds of knuckles against wood. Always with his left hand.

Ryan at first had thought it was his friend’s way of greeting. The dark haired male often would have his headphones on editing by the time Shane arrived, so the sensation would alert him to acknowledge his colleague. But it still happened no matter what Ryan was doing. He’s often seen the tall guy do it from across the other side of the room.

As time has gone on, Ryan has also come to realise some other things Shane tends to do. Little routines, patterns.

He remembers Shane’s blushed face the first time he caught him checking his front door by pressing down on the handle 12 times.

“It’s definitely locked, big guy.” Ryan had laughed, seeing the flush of pink spread down Shane’s neck below his shirt and a muttered, somewhat embarrassed “I know” and that was that.

They never discussed it.

But Shane had been twitchy all day that day.

They first addressed it three months ago. Sort of had to, really. Considering Shane, very much out of character, suddenly started having a panic attack in the middle of shooting a post mortem episode. It had been brought on by the fact he couldn’t find a small blue marble – which Ryan then learned Shane has carried since his grandfather gave it to him when he was 16-years-old.

They found it at the bottom of the Illinois-born male’s messenger bag, where it had fallen below a bunch of paperwork.

Ryan has never seen Shane look so relieved and then incredibly exhausted, all a result of his panic.

“What’s happened here?” Ryan had asked softly, pushing a mug of hot tea towards his friend. He’d never experienced Shane so frantic, that’s usually his area of expertise.

Large hands had reached out for the drink with a quiet thank you. A slender finger had began tapping anxiously at the side for a few beats before Shane had seemed to have found the right words to say. And those words had revealed…

“I have OCD.”

Ryan remembers how affected Shane had appeared in that moment, the taller male looking like he was both ready to collapse and flee all at once.

“Oh.” Came Ryan’s intelligent response.

Shane’s eyes had been glued to the mug in front of him, as if waiting for the judgement or ridicule. It made Ryan’s chest ache (even still does now) with the idea that Shane had possibly been met with such on discussing this part of himself.

“Okay.” Ryan had then said, trying for nonchalant. He had questions, of course he did, he _was_ Ryan Bergara ‘Man of Curiosity’ after all.

Shane had pulled his gaze up to take in his friend before him. “Okay?” He’d echoed, as if unsure.

Ryan gave his broad shoulders a shrug. “I don’t know what it means entirely,” He’d began honestly. “But you know I’m here for you, right?”

The question had been met with a nod.

“I-“ Shane attempted to begin, choosing to take time to mull over his thoughts by taking a long sip of his tea. Ryan remembers the nerves bubbling in his stomach at the wait. “I have attachments to… things. And if- something happens to them, or if I forget or lose them – or even _think_ I will – look I know it’s really fucking irrational like, man I _know_ but-“ It had been cut off with a sigh and Shane had frantically pulled his hand through his hair. Ryan, at the time, with his lack of awareness of OCD had wondered if Shane would’ve rushed to fix the messed up quiff, if he’d have bothered to quickly push away the lose strand that had fallen against his forehead. Was surprised when he hadn’t.

(He later learned that OCD can affect people differently.)

“But it feels like something bad will happen. It sounds crazy.” Shane had laughed, a pitiful self-ridiculing sound that echoes in Ryan’s ears sometimes when he catches Shane repeating one of his patterns. “It is a little, but I don’t know.”

“I have attachments too.” Had been Ryan’s response. It hadn’t been the right thing to say is what Ryan had also later learnt. Because Shane had just shook his head and started to dismiss the entire thing. “Anyway, we have a post mortem to film.” He’d clapped his hands together and Ryan had got to it, knowing his friend didn’t want to be pressed on it.

Though, they _have_ spoken about it since. Many times, in fact.

Shane has offered stories with his eyes cast downwards and a tint to his cheeks. But over the weeks, he’s began to feel able to look his friend in the eye when they talk about his condition.

Today, however, appears to be a different case.

“Shane?” Ryan asks softly, tone mirroring that moment in their filming space when he’d found out about his pal’s OCD.

He’s met with silence.

Ryan shifts in his seat, turning to face the taller male. “Shane?” He repeats, more firmly.

He watches as Shane squirms, knuckles whitening where he clenches his fingers, pressing nails into palms, causing half moon imprints to the flesh there.

“Bud? What’s going on?”

Shane sighs, eyes set down. And _uh_ , that’s, like, the opposite to the progress they were having here.

“S’nothing.” He mumbles, unconvincingly.

“Shane.” Ryan says again before apologising, having seen his friend flinch.

_Tap. Tap._

Comes the knuckles against the desktop again and Shane looks so… ashamed is the only word that comes to Ryan’s mind.

“Shane…” The tanned male says more softly, reaching out and pulling Shane’s offending hand into his own.

“Oh no.” Is what Shane says, forehead creased like he’s in pain.

“Oh no, what?” Ryan raises his eyebrows in question.

“I need to-“ Shane coughs, stopping himself mid-sentence purposefully to correct himself. “I have the urge to-“ His fingers twitch in Ryan’s hold. “To tap again. Just- just _once_ more. It-“ He goes to pull his hand away but Ryan has tightened his grip. “Ryan- this… isn’t funny.” He notes, trying to tug his arm away.

“Tell me why… what’s triggered the urge and- I’ll let you… have it back.”

“Ryan I’m-“ He sounds strained, desperate. “This- look, _no_ , I don’t- I need to tap it.”

“No, you _want_ to. And I want you to tell me why first.”

Ryan knows he likely doesn’t stand a chance against Shane’s invasive and persistent thoughts, but he’ll give it a damn good try twice more before he, well, gives up the ghost for lack of better phrase.

“What’s happened? What’s going on? What does the tap mean?”

“That’s too- that’s too many questions even for my big head.” Shane is trying for mirth, a distraction technique Ryan has come to realise he uses often to throw people off the scent of his routines and quirks.

“Yeah, I’d appreciate answers to them all, thanks. You have such a sweaty palm.”

“Well, here’s an idea, let it go.”

They both stare down at their connected hands between them.

“Nah.” Comes Ryan’s short reply.

Shane groans. “For fuck’s sake, Ryan!” He raises his voice slightly, the dark haired male can tell he’s really struggling here. “You don’t- _urgh_ \- you don’t fucking understand.”

“Then _tell_ me.” Ryan has also increased his own volume, apparently. Sara has even looked up from behind her screen, but neither of the two lads are aware, focus remaining on one another.

Shane pulls his arm back more vigorously than previous attempts, but Ryan’s lucky to react quickly.

“I can’t do this. Let go of my fucking hand, Ryan.”

“Tell me why you want to tap again.” If he’s anything, it’s persistent and annoying.

“I’ll go to HR I swear to fucking God, Ryan, I’ll do it.”

Ryan considers it for a moment. It is a threat at the end of the day.

He doesn’t want to lose his job nor the stuff that comes with it, like Unsolved and Shane. He tells Shane such.

“Neither do I, hence why you need to…” He stops abruptly.

It takes Ryan a second or two to piece it together.

The taps. They’re significant to him. To _them._

“Is it… Unsolved? Is this what the taps are associated with?” Ryan’s still got Shane’s hand trapped in his.

The taller male holds his gaze for a few seconds before looking away.

“It is, isn’t it?” It’s not even a real question, Ryan can just _tell._

Shane gives a shrug of his shoulders. Ryan loosens his hold, though not fully.

“I’ve- since the day I sat here. I did it. To bring me luck on the day itself. And then we got pulled in to help on that Try Guys video. So I thought ‘Okay, I’ll do it for the week, see what it brings’ and then Keith asked me to join him to film some stuff, and then eventually you and Brent got the greenlight for Unsolved. It all just kept happening, so it never stopped. Then I-“ Shane pauses, thin lips twitching into a frown. “I forgot one particularly bad morning, I’d been late and pulled into a meeting. By the time I got to my desk, Brent had already quit Unsolved. You were devastated. It was _my_ fault.” He ignores Ryan as he tries to interrupt to protest. “So I _had_ to do it the next day, the taps, of course. And that same day, you asked me to join you for Unsolved. And you know the rest of the story, all the amazing things it’s brought us since.”

The long, heavy exhale that follows allows Ryan to know how relieved Shane is to have that off his chest.

They’re just staring at one another. The hustle and bustle of the office behind them a distant background noise as their attention is firm on each other.

“That’s-“ Ryan swallows. “The taps, they’re not what have brought our success.”

Shane doesn’t look convinced.

“ _This_ ,” He tugs at Shane’s hand, pulling it in and towards his chest. “Us. We’re the reason we’ve got to this point. I couldn’t have done this without you, as much as you couldn’t have done it without me.”

“You sure about that?” The joke sounds flat even to Shane’s own ears.

“Deadly.”

“Ooh, spooky.”

“Shut up, Shane.”

Ryan clears his throat.

“That still doesn’t answer why today in particular, has led to multiple needs to tap, though.” The shorter male points out.

Shane wriggles in his chair, blush beginning to bloom on his cheeks.

Ryan raises his brows in question.

“I really needed to make sure we’re okay today.” Is what Shane reveals.

“Why’s that?”

“Because-“ Shane sighs, fingers twitching below Ryan’s. “I was going to- uh-“

“Honest to fucking god, Madej. Just kiss the boy and get it over and done with. No offence, some of us have deadlines and we feel distracted watching this couple’s counselling over there.” Curly pipes up, popping his head up from his screen. There's a grin on his face, all jest.

It brings them back into reality that _hey you’re still in work_.

Sara giggles from behind her hand.

Shane is so red in the face and much like when he’s insecure sharing pieces about his condition, his eyes are cast downwards.

“Look at me.” Ryan says, sounding surprisingly collected all things considered.

Shane doesn’t follow lead so Ryan sighs, rolling his eyes. He unclasps their connected hands, notes the frown deepen on his friend’s features as he reads into it, thinking that there’s clear rejection and humiliation about to come.

_Tap. Tap._

Shane’s head shoots up. Looks to Ryan, then at where his right hand hovers above the surface of their shared space.

“You used the wrong hand.” Shane whispers, sounding unsure.

Ryan’s scared it will throw him into distress so instead he opts for distraction. “Sometimes, patterns need to be broken, to make way for new ones.”

And then they’re kissing, where Ryan has surged forward and smashed his mouth against Shane’s, who is completely unprepared.

It’s a _bad kiss_. Even Ryan can fess up to that one. The angle is awkward, he’s bumped his knee off Shane’s knobbly one and not seeing it coming, the taller male accidentally bit into Ryan’s lip.

Oh well, not everything has or needs to be perfect in this world.

And that’s the message Ryan’s happy to continue sharing with Shane for however long he’ll allow him.

**Author's Note:**

> we love a poor rushed ending
> 
> come speak to me over at [hallowwen.tumblr.com](http://hallowwen.tumblr.com) if ya wannaaa


End file.
